


Leftovers

by TLvop



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Gen, New Friendship, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-17
Updated: 2016-09-17
Packaged: 2018-08-14 21:23:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8029381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TLvop/pseuds/TLvop
Summary: In which Peter's having a normal day, until he isn't, and Wanda's just looking to do some good.





	Leftovers

**Author's Note:**

  * For [telm_393](https://archiveofourown.org/users/telm_393/gifts).



It's a pretty normal day, for most of it. It's the "most" that gets Peter _every. time_. so he needs to start getting suspicious around 3 pm. But he keeps relaxing once the school bell rings. He catches his train back from school (1-0), doesn't find anything particularly interesting (1-1), has only one super awkward conversation with his neighbors (1-2) and Mrs. Kazinsky made sugar cookies and gave him _two_ (3-2).

Aunt May's in her bedroom office when he walks in, so he makes sure to be mostly quiet, taking his backpack to his bedroom before dropping it off. He wanders back to the kitchen, taking off his headphones as he does. There's mail on the counter, including cards and stuff, but that's probably not important. What _is_ important are the leftovers from last night because - man, day old pizza is the best pizza, and May almost _never_ buys pizza, and when she does Peter almost _never_ leaves leftovers.

He's getting it out of the refrigerator when May rolls her chair back so she can see through her bedroom door. He only catches the movement out of the corner of his eye, but leans around the fridge so he can see her. "How was school?"

"Good, good," he says. "I, uh, think the history project went okay. Our teacher thinks the coliseum model is really cool. Julia took it home."

"It _is_ really cool," May says, smiling. He smiles back, because he can't really help it.

"How're you?"

"Oh, you know. Busy." She waves her hand at the headset, and rolls her eyes a little. Technically she sets her own hours, but technically-technically, that's really not the case. "Oh! You got a letter," she adds. "No return address, but – I think it's from a girl." She winks, exaggerated.

"Why – don't wink like that – why would a girl write me a letter?"

May laughs, then starts slightly and puts her headset back on. "Hello, this is May, how can I help you?" She closes the door with her foot, but he can still hear the usual patter. He turns, preheating the oven and getting out a baking sheet as quietly as spider-ly possible. There's the letter, in a plain white bank sort of envelope, with "Peter Parker" marked on it in a sort of loopy handwriting. She must've put it into their mail slot herself.

He cleans his fingers of grease, and opens the letter really carefully. Inside is a folded sheet of printer paper, and on the inside of that is a short paragraph of writing done in pen.

 _Dear Mr. Parker_ , it says, and Peter sighs with mostly-relief. He really can't - he can't do relationship things right now, you know? He wants to, obviously, but life is -- really stressful. Really _really_ stressful. But obviously he wouldn't turn down - _most_ of the likely people he can think of, the ones he actually knows. Just because he's busy enough that it'd be stupid doesn't mean he wouldn't be stupid. And – May always says that the time to be stupid about liking people is high school. And anyway, Mr. Stark makes it work, the superhero and relationship thing. Peter's pretty sure that's true. But it's better, not to have to deal with it. Right?

That decided, he continues.

_I hope this finds you well. We met briefly, at an airport a few months ago. You might remember it? I am in town for the moment, and if you are available I would like to speak with you. I'll be at the park by your apartment complex until sundown, with red jeans and a baseball cap (the Iowa Hawkeyes)._

_W. M._

"Okay," Peter says to himself. W.M, at the airport, a woman...

He jumps as the oven beeps. Oh, sh-- ! He needs to make the Scarlet Witch pizza! He goes back to the fridge, and drags out a couple of the vegetarian slices to add to the baking sheet.

\--

Peter layers the pizza in aluminum foil, and stuffs it into the soft carry-cooler he and May and Ben used to use for when there were leftovers from potlucks and stuff when he was a kid. A younger kid. He stuffs orange sodas into its outside pockets, and pushes May's door open with a finger when she's stopped actively talking.

She looks up at him, and puts the headset on mute. "What's up?"

"I'm going to the park," he says.

May narrows her eyes at him, but in a good-natured way, so he fills it in.

"There's, uh, this thing I was supposed to do for physics – for extra credit," he says, a little awkward. It's true, too. "Test out the swing set and make, um, box diagrams for how the slides and stuff work."

"All right," May says. "Who was the letter from?"

"Somebody Mr. Stark introduced me to," he says, backing up to get his bag. "She's a grown-up."

The walk to the park is brisk, and the sidewalk is mostly empty, so he's not surprised to find the park mostly empty, too. There's some kids on the swings, and four picnic tables, one with a woman sitting at it. She's wearing a team hat, which - he can't really tell if that's the Hawkeyes because he forgot to check their logo, but those are definitely red jeans.

"Oh, hi, uh—Ms. Maximoff?" Is she a grown up? Peter's really not sure, now that he's up close. She could be a senior, _maybe_ , but she looks like a grown up. A young one!

She turns in her chair, and a small smile pulls at her face as she stands up. She's not very tall. "You can call me Wanda," she says.

"Right, yeah," Peter says, sort of embarrassed but sort of pleased he's managed to amuse her. Even if the joke is probably on him, _what's new_. "Hi, Wanda. Oh! I'm Peter." He sticks his hand out, and she shakes it with a sort of deliberate solemnity that makes him feel like he's in on the joke. He grins.

"What's that?" she asks, eyes dipping to the bag, and he startles a little. 

"Oh! Oh, it's – pizza. Do you like pizza?" Something crosses her face. "There's some vegetarian slices," he says, hoping she's just Jewish. If she's lactose intolerant, or something – he should've brought sandwich fixings as backup.

"I like pizza," she says, and smiles at him again. "It's – not what I expected. Sit?" She waves to the picnic table like it's her private booth at a fancy restaurant, and he promptly sits across from where her book is, pulling things out of the bag.

"Is that guy over there the Falcon?" he asks, glancing up at her as he tries to unwrap the aluminum. Ow, ouch, ow -- _pizza_.

"Yes," the Scarlet Witch says, watching him very carefully. "I'm the youngest, so they... worry."

Peter blinks at her, doesn't say _I thought you were a grownup_ , and pushes the pizza and some paper towels to her. "Okay. What -- did you want to talk about?"

Wanda shrugs, both spiky and fluid at once, and tucks her hair behind her ear before picking up one of the veggie slices. "You're younger than me," she says. "And – " she waves a hand, and smiles. It's not a very happy smile. "Maybe I don't trust Tony Stark to worry about you in – the right ways."

"Nobody has to worry about me," Peter says, immediately, eyes widening. "In any way! I'm fine!"

She shrugs, again. "Still, I want to know you. So when you are _not_ fine, you have someone less ... scary than Stark to tell, before it gets bad."

Peter gnaws on his bottom lip. "You're not going to use me to get to Mr. Stark?"

Wanda snorts, but then she smiles. "I won't use you to get to Stark."

"Okay, well – good." He grabs a slice of pizza, and starts talking about movies. Maybe once they're kind of friends, he can get her to tell him how Falcon's wings work.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I had so much fun re-watching the movies and figuring out how these two would interact -- thank you for your awesome prompts! :)


End file.
